His Bacca
by ScarlettSlaysSquids
Summary: Mitch has hated Baccas since he was young, but will a very special bacca be able to change that? Watch Mitch and Jerome journey through Minecraftia and challenge the status quo, all while learning more about themselves and how much they care for each other. As much as I want it to be, not a Merome Romance Fanfiction. You should read it anyways. Rated T because Mitch and Jerome.
1. Prologue: The Naming Ceremony

**Hello people of the Internet! I have cleared out my documents and that can only mean one thing: A new story! I know what all you haters are thinking: God, she promised not to write about demons anymore, so what can she possibly create? I'll tell you what: #Merome. **

**Those of you who've read Elle Vs Minecraft may remember the day I went on a nine-hour Merome spree. So while crying about their forbidden love or something I came up with this. Even though I really, _really_ want to write a Merome love story I can't yet. I know some people are uncomfortable with a boy loving a boy, and though I see no problems with it I'd never want to make someone angry. Instead I've decide to write a bromance, a story of in breakable friendship. If you can't handle that- get out. **

**As a final note, I'd like to let you know some challenges I've set up for myself. One, the narrator is a guy (all my protagonists are girls). Two, the story _actually takes place in Minecraft. _And three, the story is written in 3rd person. Oh my god, what have I done? This was an mistake. (#ReviveASF) Look for the Easter egg at the naming ceremony, I've included some OCs from New Feelings :p But no demons or plot twists, I swear. Enjoy!**

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Mitch groaned and opened up his blurry eyes. The redstone powder lit up his yellow clock, indicating the beginning of another day. That meant school, sword lessons with his dad, and hunting. All the other kids learned by playing fun games like Capture the Flag and the Hunger Games. Mitch had entered a Hunger Games once, but he had no clue how to play and was taken out within the first minute. From then on it was strictly training and education, or "edumacation", as Mitch called it. He wasn't cut out for being strict or bossed around, he was much more of a joker.

Mitch muttered about "useless history" as he pulled himself out of the toasty red sheets. Right now his class was learning about the history of Minecraftia, but he didn't see any point to it. Why would him knowing that people used to not have redstone matter? They had advanced creations, and he could use them all he wanted. Mitch doubted that an attacker would ask him to list the creators of Minecraftia in order for freedom. He preferred classes with his dad; at least sword skills were useful. Besides, he never got to see him.

Mitch's dad was the leader of their village, and Mitch was expected to take his place. He had to be a top-notch fighter and know how to persuade people. It was lot of pressure for a boy his age; he was only thirteen. He had no friends, no relationships, and no freedom. That was all Mitch yearned for, no matter how much the cost. He was tired of having his future planned out for him. Why couldn't things be spontaneous and new? Routines were for people who needed stability in life, and that certainly wasn't Mitch.

Mitch sighed before grabbing his checkered jacket and leaving his bedroom. He listened to the familiar sounds of his mom cooking steak for breakfast. He found it odd that their village only ate meats and bread, while he knew most people also had an assortment of potatoes, carrots, and watermelon. Then there were the delicious cookies he got as a special treat every once in a while. The taste of their warm, sweet chocolate filled his mouth until he began to drool.

"Straighten up, sweetie!" Mitch's mother ordered, removing another two steaks from a furnace. Their kitchen had to be the best in the village so they had a wall of furnaces. Why, Mitch didn't quite understand, since they only used at most five. The orange wool walls brightened in the rising sunlight, causing Mitch to squint. His house was made of wood and wool with the occasional ore, just for show. It was so flammable, he thought to himself. Maybe if it burned down he could leave and have freedom.

The sound of his mother clapping her hands snapped him out of his daydream. "Darling, are you half asleep? Come eat before you walk to school. I don't want you to starve to death."

"I thought that was a myth." He said as he settled in his normal seat.

She shook her head. "Of course not. What do you think happened to Great-Aunt Louise?" He should've felt bad but he didn't know the lady, so he continued shoving steak into his mouth. His mother ignored the silence. "So, are you ready for the naming ceremony?"

He nearly choked on his breakfast. That was today? He checked seven days ago and it was a whole week away... He sighed. "Do I have to go? It's a silly tradition. Everyone will still call me Mitch."

She gasped. "It's not silly! It's sacred and a milestone in your life! I don't want to hear any more of that nonsense. You know your sister-"

She launched into a story Mitch had heard a million times in the past week. It was a surprise Mitch had forgotten, considering how often he was reminded. His family, being the leaders, were expected to keep traditions and be an example. His mother certainly fit that description. She treated even the smallest details, such as planting a flower dedicated to Notch each year, as if they were religious ceremonies. Mitch's older sister Kyleigh (I know she's younger than him, let's pretend she's older) was similar in a way. She wasn't as crazy, but she embraced the importance of her traditions. Even his younger brother, Connor, could occasionally be seen helping his mother celebrate. Mitch rolled his eyes at that; they had already brainwashed the kid at five years old.

He finished his breakfast and grabbed his bag. "Mom, I'm leaving!"

"Remember to be at the fountain by noon!" She called as Mitch stepped into the fresh air.

His cat and wolf bounded up to him. "Hey, Dots and Fluffy!" Mitch had come up with names when he was about 8. His cat had lots of polka dots, hence the name Dots; and his wolf was the furriest he'd ever seen. They were his companions and two of the few people he trusted. He told them all his problems and they protected him when he went hunting. Unfortunately, they weren't allowed at school. He petted them quickly and set off for the dull, boring morning ahead of him.

When he saw the rusty old building it already bored him. The cobblestone was full of moss and there were holes in the walls. The door was an old wooden one, which besides being out of style creaked whenever someone opened it. Even the desks were made with birch wood, who used that anymore? He had tried to persuade his parents to fix it many times, but they claimed they had "other priorities". Basically his mother's need for an emerald block in every room. Mitch had just barely kept her out of his room, claiming he preferred a simple look. It was a wonder he saw the beauty in modesty based on his home environment. He really shared no traits with his family. It felt like he didn't belong, and he pondered this often.

"Children, take your seats!" The teacher clapped his hands together.

Mitch looked around and saw only ten kids. How odd, he thought; There's normally at least twenty. Maybe they were just as nervous for the ceremony as he was. He slid into his normal seat: in the front away from everyone. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Whether he liked it or not, he was required to know all of this. Mitch didn't even want to imagine his parents' reactions if he missed the smallest detail.

With his eye on the clock yet his ears listening to the teacher, Mitch waited. He could notice the room brighten as the sun rose above their heads. The distant sounds of zombies burning echoed faintly through the rooms; He knew there were no zombies nearby, the village was safe. Finally, after hearing the teacher drone on and on about the origins of the mythical Herobrine, it was time. The idea of the ceremony was exciting yet nauseating. He was stuck with this nickname forever, and if it was bad he'd never live it down. He sighed and began walking to the village square.

In his village, all 13-year-olds were given a name. The oldest and wisest villagers can see their futures, so he assigns one to each child. Though you could pick which name you go by, it's tradition that the leader's son, Mitch in this case, embraces his destiny and chooses the new one. Mitch found some of the names to be a tad... extravagant. Minerboy213, PixieChick22, and xXLolaXx were all examples. And if you had numbers or xxxx in your name it was determined you'd be ordinary. It was a rare thing to be numberless. Mitch prayed he had numbers so his parents would know he wasn't special and stop pressuring him.

"Welcome to this year's Name Ceremony!" His father's familiar voice boomed. Mitch snapped out of his daydream and started running; the ceremony was starting without him! Not a good first impression for the wise villager, but maybe that was a good thing. He noticed the droplets of water that peaked over buildings in the square. The crystal-clear water of the fountain was soon within sight and he sighed in relief. Mitch slipped through a crack between houses and merged with the group of kids gathered around. His father paused to give him a glance and slightly shake his head before returning to his speech. It was a common occurrence for Mitch to be late, but his family didn't quite appreciate it.

"Are you nervous?" A voice whispered into his ear. Mitch turned and saw Mat, the closest thing he had to a friend. They'd be closer if Mitch weren't so busy all the time.

"A little bit." He admitted. "It's just... There's a lot of pressure on me to have a great future."

Mat nodded. "My family is the other was around. They don't expect me to amount to anything. I'm so determined to get a creative name."

Mitch chuckled softly. "It's silly, how much our future depends on this. It's just a second name."

Mat hushed him. "Don't you dare say that in front of anyone else, they'd have you executed."

"StarrGalaxy24. DeadTuber458. GoldenFlame222." The last of the girls were walking away from the wise man. Some were beaming, some were upset, and the others had neutral reactions. "And now for the boys."

They lined up near the small stage. Mat stood in front of Mitch, and when it got to his turn he whispered, "Wish me luck."

The wise man smiled and proclaimed, "NoochM."

Mitch joined in along with the rest of the crowd's applause. Mat grinned and walked to the rest of the boys. Mitch was really happy for him until he realized it was his turn. He gulped and walked onstage.

The man studied him. "Interesting... You're a tough one." Mitch was extremely tempted to ask what he meant but he kept his ground. Finally, after a few agonizing moments, the man spoke.

"BajanCanadian."

The crowd gasped and then clapped. Two extraordinary names right after each other was rare, and Mitch tried to keep from sighing. Now his parents would for sure make a big deal.

Mitch zoned out for a while, thinking of what he'd have to do. Some day he'd have to explain that he was no leader, and that he honestly hated order and responsibility. This name was not going to help him one bit. He sighed as he considered his options, but he managed to hear one last thing.

"PeteZahHut-"

The whizzing of an arrow practically froze time, and Mitch watched helplessly as it spiraled towards the wise man. He slumped over as lifeless as a fence and the crowd gasped. Mitch watched his father narrow his eyes into slits before turning his attention to the direction of the weapon. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of a furry mammal, and his father must've seen it too.

"Leader, who did this?" A citizen called over the noise of sobs and protest.

Mitch's father furrowed his eyebrows. "It was... A bacca."

**Dun dun dun... And that marks the beginning of His Bacca! In the comments, let me know if you think this will be a good story! I'm not quite sure, I've seriously thought out the beginning and end but not the middle. Whelp, we'll see. I may go crazy from Merome feels by the end of this. **

**~Scarlett the Fangirl**


	2. The Iron Sword Presentation

**I swear to God I had 65% of this chapter done on Monday night. I thought I was going to be all responsible and post Tuesday?, but then my math teacher gave me a packet that took three and a half hours. _Three and a half hours. _Not to be vain, but I'm not stupid! The packet literally took that long, and at that point I wanted to sleep. I promise I updates won't take three date all the time, given my teachers don't constantly do this. Enjoy!**

Four years later

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Mitch sighed and sat up. That same alarm clock greeted him just like any morning. He had created a strict routine back when he was thirteen that didn't include extra sleep. Instead of the sun waking him, he woke up the sun. The hour at which he normally awoke seemed inhumane to most, but Mitch understood the importance. Ever since that day so long ago he had vowed to become a bacca hunter. That was a lot of hunting, sword skills, and overall effort. He knew he was doing the right thing, though. After what the baccas had done to his people, they deserved even worse treatment to theirs.

That was the mindset Mitch tried to have, anyways. Everyone believed it, so who was he to challenge the well-known opinion? The facts were there; they killed the wise man and he was a first-hand witness. Somehow the two species had managed to stall from war, but it was only so long before tensions became high and someone snapped. Mitch prayed none of his family was hurt. He knew his father would be fighting, but he worried about Connor. The boy was nearly ten and was starting to develop his own opinions. One of them just happened to be that he was strong enough to outlast anything, even on a battlefield. Who knew what he could do? His sister was off somewhere in Spawn City with her rich boyfriend living a glamorous life. Soon enough she'd dump him for someone with more money, like always.

A deep, nagging feeling kept telling Mitch all his opinions were wrong. They're weren't even his opinions, the voice whispered. Mitch only had limited, biased views on baccas. Still, could a whole village be wrong? Mitch saw a bacca kill a villager with his own shocked eyes. Baccas were bad, he decided, and deserved to be killed.

Just like always, he grabbed his checkered hoodie and walked out the door. The familiar sounds of his mother cooking steak hung in the air. If Mitch listened quietly, he could've sworn those noises were always in the house regardless of what time it was. The smell wafted up the hallway, though, so he knew it was real. Why would she be up so early? He usually made his own breakfast since the rest of the family slept in. Was his father leaving early for hunting? That had to be it.

"Good morning, BajanCanadian." She greeted as Mitch curiously peered around the kitchen. She offered him a steak and he bit into it greedily. "Are you ready to earn your iron sword today?"

He nearly choked on his breakfast, a habit he had formed on special occasions. "That's today?" He had wondered why she used his gifted name.

She laughed. "Of course! You always forget special occasions, don't you?" Mitch flushed a bit, but she was right. "Didn't you know your father went on a special trip to find you iron yesterday?"

Mitch shrugged. If they didn't have dedications to Notch on Sundays, he'd never be able to tell a weekend from a week day. The repetitive schedule was his life, and no days were different. Special occasions threw him off and made him uncomfortable. "Do I really have to go? Unless I die, I'll be presented with a diamond sword in a year." The leader's children and people with destined names got diamond swords when they turned eighteen, and the leader's children became eligible to lead a village. The rest of the citizens got iron swords at age seventeen, like Mitch, but they left a year later to discover their futures. It was possible to earn a diamond sword through a job opportunity or forming a village, but it was rare. It was truly a surprise Mitch had forgotten this; his mother wouldn't stop gushing about her "little man" growing up. Besides, his birthday was two days ago. The ceremonies were always right after his birthday.

He finished up his food and walked out the door into the chilly air. Snowflakes fell from the sky and coated the ground in bright white. Maybe later he'd practice his aim with snowballs, but not now. He stumbled through the snow blindly, but his foot caught on something and he fell. He grumbled about loose stones until he felt his heart melt. He had fallen on Dots' gravestone. Two years ago, Dots had gone too far into a lake and drowned. Mitch looked at it sadly, not moving from his seat, until he felt a moist nose nuzzle against his side. He sighed and reached out to pet the wolf.

"I'm alright, Fluffy." He assured. "But you shouldn't be out in this cold." The pet whimpered in reply and jumped into Mitch's lap. He laughed. "Thanks for cheering me up, buddy. After the ceremony I'll use my new sword to get some raw meat for you."

Fluffy barked in appreciation and scampered off to go grab the bone remains of skeletons. Mitch picked himself up and stumbled through the snowstorm once again. The snowflakes constantly whipped at his cheek, but it felt like small kisses. Snow kisses. Mitch liked the sound of that. Maybe it was seeing his wolf, or maybe the excitement of getting an iron sword filled him with joy. He doubted it was the latter, as he would get a diamond sword soon enough. Still, something told him today would be special, and not just because of the ceremony. His training would lighten up a bit, so maybe he'd make some friends. He talked to Mat sometimes. It could happen, and today was a day full of mystery.

Something didn't seem right when he walked into the village square. Sure, the fountain was ice and snow coated everything in sight, but he got a funny feeling that things weren't what they seemed. His suspicions rose as he glanced into nearby buildings, but nothing supported his feelings. Mitch sighed and walked into the crowd, picking the same place he stood four years ago. Thankfully the snow had stopped. He knew that as a special-named he'd have to wait a while. Knowing his father, he'd be the "grand finale". Mitch wasn't comfortable with being put on the spotlight, but rules were rules.

"Hey, man!" Mat, or NoochM, as Mitch had to call him, bounded over to him. "I can't wait for this."

Mitch shrugged unenthusiastically. "I feel like something bad is going to happen."

Mat chuckled and slapped him on the back. "You're just stressed from the last ceremony. Don't worry, the hunters have cleared out all the nearby baccas."

Mitch doubted it, but he still smiled and nodded. "Thanks."

Mitch's dad walked onto the main stage area and everything fell silent. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! Today we have come to witness a milestone in these young people's lives. Instead of going through a lengthy speech, let's get started!" Mitch loved how his dad never spent hours lecturing them.

Slowly, the names on the list were called out and a sword crafted by their families was presented. Mitch felt bad for the children with no families; they got either and old or poorly crafted sword. He vowed to keep his in shape and donate it to someone next year. Finally, even the special-named had gone up. Out of the corner of his eye, Mitch saw Mat smiling and swinging his sword around. "And last but certainly not least! My son, BajanCanadian."

Mitch cringed at the use of that name but realized he was supposed to go up. He tried his hardest to keep from blushing at his mistake as he walked up  
the steps. Don't trip, head up, shoulders back; he mentally coached himself. The pressure nearly overwhelmed him, but he smiled through it.

"I'm so proud of you." His father said quietly and presented him the sword. The blade gleamed with fresh snow and the handle looked sturdy. Mitch carefully grasped his new weapon in his hands, taking a moment to drink in the sight. His father smiled at him, but then came the terror. A sound Mitch had rarely heard in four years echoed off the houses, bouncing in and out of everyone's ears. He couldn't have been the only one to have heard it, in his mind it was the loudest sound. The swish and ping of a string snapping back, sending a single arrow flying through the air.

Mitch barely had any time to react before his father pushed him to the ground. He froze in fear, practically reliving the events of so long ago. It couldn't be. Mat said they were all gone. A battle cry rang through the square and villagers ran in every direction. Mitch stared at the furry creatures in shock. How many were there?

"We have to go!" His father said urgently, pulling him to his feet. They weaved their way through the crowd as his father continued. "Our house will be a prime target. When we get there, you need to grab any super-important possessions and get out. We're all going to have to leave for a few days."

"You want us to abandon our people?" Mitch asked incredulously. Somehow he'd found his voice again.

"Sometimes you have to make tough decisions. Us getting killed won't help them, but leaders to aid in recovery will."

Mitch didn't quite understand how leaving innocent people to die was helping, but he followed his father on the house. Mitch rushed upstairs to his room and knocked three times on his bookcase. His secret passageway opened and he stepped inside, blowing cobwebs out of his face. There lay his most prized possessions: a beat up leather chestplate and a bow and arrows. He never used armor unless he was training with wooden swords, and bows had been unlucky for years. Every once in a while Mitch would practice shooting, but he was still better at archery than direct combat. He grabbed the items and made his way downstairs, and unfamiliar scent tickling his nose. It certainly wasn't steak cooking, so he knew something was off. It smelled like... Burning? He glanced the kitchen walls and blinked twice: were they always that orange? He stepped closer and felt an enormous amount of heat. Oh no... His house was on fire.

"Mom! Dad! Connor!" He called before choking on smoke. They didn't answer and he needed to get out. Reluctantly, he dashed outside.

The baccas didn't seem to enjoy admiring their work considering none stood outside his flaming house. He looked around and spotted his parents desperately gasping for air. "Mom! Dad!"

Relief washed over their faces. "Oh, honey!" His mom rushed over. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said breathlessly. "Where's Connor?"

Their faces fell. "We thought you saw him."

His father frowned. "I'm going to go get him." He pecked Mitch's mom on the cheek. "I love you."

"Don't-" She started but he already left. Five agonizing minutes passed with no signs of progress. "I can't do this. I'm going in after them."

"Mom, wait." Mitch insisted, but he heard the gut-wrenching sound again. His eyes widened as an arrow sunk into the ground one inch from his foot.

"Run." His mom said urgently. "We'll meet you in the forest."

"But-"

"Go!" She yelled and sprinted off to the house. Mitch nearly yelped as the shots got dangerously close to him and took off, not looking back as his home deteriorated.

**I have the most awkward yet adorable scene planned for next chapter. I'm really starting to question how I think up this stuff. And yes, I know the first half mirrored then prologue, so please don't think of me as repetitive with my writing. I know someone would, so sorry if I offended those who wouldn't. Wow, now I'm babbling in my writing too. I need sleep. In the reviews let me know what you think will happen to Mitch!**

**~Scarlett**


	3. An Awkward Meeting

**I've gotten off to a bad start in terms of updating this. I want to update every day, but writing 2,000+ words in an hour is hard XD I don't know how I managed to do 1,000 in an hour since September 2013. It's been six months since I published my first story, hasn't it? Well happy anniversary to me! I just realized that, wow. Enjoy the chapter full of adorable and awkward meetings! **

Shadows engulfed the boy as he disappeared into the depths of the forest. It wasn't as safe as he remembered from all the hunting trips. Then it seemed bright, happy, and like a great adventure. Now he shivered as the darkness wrapped around him like a snake, squeezing his body until he was barely breathing. Still he kept running, and the creepy figures followed. A stick's shadow became an enemy, a twig he stepped on the sound of a bow or TNT, and the cold winds became a warning sign. His senses were keen yet dull, his eyes alert yet droopy, and his legs strong yet weak. His heart was near exploding as his feet pounded the ground. Soon he wouldn't be able to run anymore, and what would happen when the sun set? Running into a forest was stupid, he decided. Mitch had no idea what secrets lay beyond the trees. Someone could be watching him right now, waiting to strike...

A rustle of leaves made Mitch freeze. Were there other things in the forest? Another noise caused Mitch to raise his sword and spin around, checking in all directions. "Come out, come out wherever you are..." He called as he desperately looked for clues.

"Okay."

A brown mass plummeted to the ground, landing on Mitch and flinging his sword to the side. His head slammed into a tree trunk and he groaned, only to recognize the enormous pressure on his chest. He gasped as he realized what was on him. The distinct odor and warmth gave it away without him opening his eyes.

A furry, stinking bacca.

"Get off of me!" He shrieked, flailing his arms around like an impotent child. The bacca hushed him and pushed his arms to the ground. Mitch had never been in a position like this and squirmed uncomfortably. "Get off." He mumbled.

"Not until you agree not to kill me." He said firmly. Mitch gasped once again.

"You- You talk?" Most baccas conversed in unrecognizable growls and groans. Only privileged translators were able to communicate with humans.

"I learned in my own time without my dad knowing." He said quietly as if it were a secret. "Now, do you promise not to kill me?"

"How do I know you won't kill me? You may be sent here to finish me off, just like my whole family." Mitch scoffed. Just because he was in an odd situation didn't mean he would lose his common sense.

The bacca's gaze softened. "What happened to your family?"

"They were slaughtered by you ruthless baccas!" He insisted.

"Oh." He replied simply. "So you lived in that village."

Mitch frowned. "You're here to kill me, aren't you? Well, do it already. Everything I lived for is gone now."

The bacca seemed upset by Mitch's stereotype of his people. "You probably think we're cold, calculating killers, right? Well, not all of us are."

"Unlikely. You've probably murdered my whole village by now."

The bacca finally got off Mitch and he gasped for air. "I never meant for this to happen. It's all my fault."

Mitch's eyes diminished into slits. "You did this?" The bacca glanced at his feet. "Well, thanks for screwing up my life. I didn't even learn your name."

"Jerome." He said quietly. "And I never meant to screw up anyones lives."

"You've ended many." Mitch muttered.

"It wasn't meant to be like that." Jerome said timidly. "It was just a birthday present."

"You call killing people a birthday present?" Mitch yelled, losing his wits. "That's screwed up. You know what? Get away from me- I don't want to be associated with people like you."

"But-"

"Leave me be!" He shouted, stalking off in a different direction.

"It was my father's idea- he's the leader of our tribe."

Mitch froze. Leader? He didn't even know baccas had tribes like that. No one had ever shared that trait with him. Maybe, just maybe, Jerome understood him. Mitch looked at his sword and sighed. Picking it up, he turned around.

"Alright, I'll listen to your story. But you make one move and I'll skewer and cook you like a kabob. Deal?"

Jerome put his hands up in defense. "I don't want to kill anyone. I've seen enough bloodshed for a day."

Mitch sighed. "I'm probably making a mistake trusting you, but continue." He felt more comfortable knowing the distance between them was his sword. He had a major advantage in any situation, minus if Jerome had backup. Something about the boy's eyes told him this was genuine.

"So my birthday is in a couple of days," he started. "and I wanted a cool new weapon. My dad told me we were going to trade with villagers and get me a diamond axe-"

"An axe?" Mitch asked. "What about a sword?"

"Baccas don't use swords!" He said, clearly offended. "They use bows, but I like axes." Mitch thought of the sickening bow sound and shivered. "So we went to a nearby village. Instead of trading, though, they started killing. Normally I'd love eating their livers-"

"Don't touch me." Mitch interrupted, wearily taking a few steps back.

Jerome tilted his head like a confused puppy. "What? Did I not put enough Parmesan cheese on today?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, you humans call it deodorant! I forgot." Mitch looked curiously at the strange animal. He wasn't sure he could trust him. "Anyways. I love chopping some skulls, but this was different. The people weren't fighting back, so I asked another bacca what was happening. He said that we'd been at war for a long time, and yet I never knew..."

"How did you not know you were at war with my village?" Mitch asked incredulously.

"My father lied to me." Jerome said softly. "He always made up excuses for why he came home late or why there were celebrations. I never got to go, probably so he could keep the secret. I ran away as soon as I found out, I mean I couldn't bear to see anyone killed without a good fight. I feel so oblivious and dumb. They always told me how your people were starting to kill off mine-"

"What?" Mitch asked. "We never did anything to you. You killed our wise man during the naming ceremony!"

"After you murdered our tribe leader." Jerome replied calmly. "Thanks for putting my dad in charge, but still. Just yesterday, you all raided our homes and killed some of the kids, along with my sister."

"Impossible." Mitch said defensively. "Everyone went on a mining trip yesterday."

Jerome laughed. "That's what they're telling you? Even I know your town has a large array of every type of ore. They don't need mining trips."

Mitch's face fell. He was right... But how could it be true? "I don't believe it." He whispered. "My village? They always told me baccas were bad."

"Well, not all of us are." Jerome said. "But I'm not offended. Everyone thinks we are horrible, really. We can barely go near a human village without getting death threats."

Mitch wanted to console the creature, but he didn't know what to say. It seemed unimaginable to be hated like that; everyone liked Mitch, or they at least pretended so his father wouldn't kill them. He tried to ponder this further, but loud and fast footsteps interrupted his train of thought. "Hide!" Jerome said urgently as he shoved Mitch behind a tree. Mitch flattened his back against the trunk and prayed whatever it was wouldn't find him.

Unmistakeable grunts and groans told him it was another bacca and Jerome was safe. He, however, would be killed immediately if found. He just needed to hide, stay quiet, and hope his heartbeat didn't sound as loud to them as it did for him. It was much easier said than done, especially since Mitch didn't understand any of the conversation. He couldn't resist perking, no matter what the risk. In the few seconds he looked he saw a massive furry animal nearly two times Jerome's size. That put him on edge, but the sound of footsteps approaching made his heart stop.

Jerome grunted urgently but the loud steps came closer. "Run!" He said in English.

Mitch didn't need to be told twice. His legs carried him away from the scene as fast as they could. He tried darting through the trees but he had a major disadvantage. Baccas thrived in forests. Soon enough the heavy footsteps were right behind him and gaining speed. Mitch wasn't a fast runner in the first place. In fact, he was quite clumsy, so it was no surprise when he tripped over a stone.

His feet flew out from underneath him and he tumbled to the ground, rolling down a slight hill and into a stream. Mitch whimpered and tried to sit up, but strong arms held him down. At least he isn't sitting in me like Jerome, he thought. "So, you're a human. You look like the leader's son. Are you?"

Mitch squirmed. "Get off me."

The bacca laughed. "This is revenge, little man. For all you've done to me and my people."

"I didn't even know about this until today, okay?" Mitch said angrily. "It's my father's fault, not mine."

"We've already taken care of your whole family." Mitch tried to punch him at the words. "You're the only one left. Time to die, rich boy." He closed his eyes and waited for the pain.

**That cliffhanger is literally overdone by me alone. I need to work on my writing skills. Leave a review letting me know the most awkward meeting you've had with someone! I can't think of any right now, but I've had some. **

**~Scarlett the Inconsistent Updater**


	4. Abandoned

**I'm sorry this chapter is a bit short, but it took two days instead of three! This is the week my family calls March Madness, so I'm not quite sure how often I can update. Writing the middle of a story with no plot is hard, man. I have the ending planned out and small event I know have to occur, but as for what to write for now I don't know. I'm sure that's evident in this chapter. **

The pain never came. Mitch heard a loud snap and cringed, but nothing else happened. He pried open one eye. "Um, Mr. Bacca? Are you going to kill me now?" He stared at Mitch with a blank expression. "Sir, I'd appreciate if you'd get this over wit-"

The bacca's face seemed to get closer and closer until it finally dawned on Mitch what was happening. He darted to the side as the animal crashed to the ground, a loud thud echoing off the nearby trees. Mitch's heart beat faster than a drum as he tried to regain his breath. What had just happened?

"Oh my goodness." Jerome ran down the small hill. "I can't believe I just did that."

Mitch unsteadily got onto his feet. "Did what?"

Jerome kneeled by the bacca and inspected the wound. Mitch noticed a hastily crafted stick protruding from its back, so he assumed it had pierced vital organs or something. "I stabbed someone of my own kind. I knew his whole family..."

Mitch awkwardly hugged the animal. "It's okay," He said as genuinely as he could. "I'm sure he'll be fine, it's just a stick. Why did you, though?"

"He would have killed you for no reason." Jerome said simply. "I just met you, so I could not let that happen."

"Why risk your honor and safety for a stranger?"

Jerome looked deep into Mitch's eyes. "Because something tells me I can trust you." He leaned extremely close to Mitch. "My bacca senses are tingling."

Mitch wondered if the bacca had any sense of personal space. They were so close he could feel Jerome's warm but shaky breath on his cheeks. "Uh... Bacca senses?"

"You don't have them?" Jerome stood up and Mitch breathed a sigh of relief. "Humans are odd."

"Yeah, we're the odd ones." Mitch mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thanks for saving me."

"No problem, biggums." Jerome began walking.

"Biggums?" Mitch, though still in shock, managed to catch up to him.

"Yeah, biggums." Jerome said. "It means friend. Plus, you didn't tell me your name."

Friends? He, Mitch, had a friend? "Oh."

Jerome gave him an odd look. "Are you planning on telling me your name?"

Mitch bit his lip. What would he say? Mitch seemed like the best option, but should he use his given name, BajanCandian? Maybe a completely new name since his wasn't completely sure if the bacca was trustworthy. 'Mitch, he saved your life,' He told himself. Finally he settled on a suitable name.

"My name is Mitch or BajanCanadian." He said proudly, emphasizing the "or".

They walked through the early morning and into the afternoon, Mitch not knowing where they were headed while Jerome appeared to. It didn't seem all that important, though, when they were passing time. Apparently near death makes people comfortable together, because the whole way Jerome and Mitch shared stories from when they were young. It turns out Mitch didn't have a very exciting childhood, while Jerome did. He had trolled teachers, beat up kids, and overall messed with people. He seemed like a nice person.

"And then this one time, I got a 40% on a test." Jerome said.

"My parents would disown me." Mitch interrupted. "How?"

"That's what I wondered! But then I looked through the test and kind of realized... I mean I wrote the same thing for four questions, put the Alamo as the answer to another, and drew a smiley face on an essay question."

Mitch burst out laughing. "I think my dad would actually kill me."

Jerome playfully nudged him. "Do you even do anything interesting?"

Mitch shrugged. "I can hunt."

"C'mon. What's the worst thing you've done?"

"Uh..." An image from 6th grade popped into his mind. "So I had a stack of bread and this kid kept bugging me to give him some. I really wanted all the bread, so I got pissed at him and I may have accidentally punched him."

Jerome burst into laughter. "My god!"

"Oh, that's not it. Afterwards I was so angry I dumped them on his head."

Jerome clapped. "Good job, biggums. When was this?"

Mitch shrugged. "End of November?"

The animal thought for a moment. "I hear by declare the 25th of each month to be Wafer Day."

Mitch chuckled. "Wafer?"

"It sounds much nicer than bread, don't you think?" It made no sense but Mitch had to agree. "Alright, we're here."

Mitch was going to ask where they were before familiar sights met his gaze. "You brought me back?" He whispered.

"Of course, biggums. It has been nice, but baccas and humans can't hang out." Jerome had a glint of regret in his eyes as he ushered Mitch into the village.

"But... We were getting to know each other! Jerome!" Mitch felt his heart drop. An empty feeling filled him, and he struggled to find out what it was. Loss. He understood it. As far as he knew, there was no one left for him. Jerome was his first chance at a friend.

"I'm sorry, Mitch or BajanCanadian, but it has to be this way." Jerome awkwardly hugged the human and turned around.

"But-"

"Goodbye." He sprinted into the forest.

Mitch sighed and sat down on his burnt house frame. He shouldn't care that this stranger left him, but he did. Maybe it was the feeling of having his first friend, or maybe he simply liked the bacca; he knew they had a chance at a lifelong friendship. Was he just eager to feel wanted? Mitch didn't know or care, but one look at his deteriorating house told him that he was alone in the world. He only had himself to face challenges now, and he didn't even have a weapon. A clear picture of the abandoned iron sword sprung into his mind and he frowned. It was pure stupidity leaving the only reminder of his family on a hill. His stomach grumbled and he realized his incompetence would have to wait; his stomach came first.

**Small tribute to bYd podcasts, check. I don't even know if it was noticeable, but you should check them out on ASF (AwesomeSauceFilms). Though a bit inappropriate, they are hillarious! Leave a review telling me if you've seen the podcasts and what you're favorite is. I love #1 and #3, personally. Also let me know if any of you read that as a hashtag :p**

**~Scarlett**


	5. The Fiery Pit O' Death

**I'm back with another chapter!... She said a week later. I'm really sorry guys. Between All County (I got an improv solo!), play practice, algebra homework, sickness, and a stupid human necessity called sleep I've been booked. Imagine adding all of this to a normal schedule and TeamCrafted drama... Good news is, I'm not dead! Sorry to those who were hoping I was finally gone :p But in all seriousness, I have hit that point where I have a fabulous ending planned but nothing to lead up to it. Aside from lack of interest, the only time I had to write was today since I stayed home "sick". More like "likely to pass out from stress". On that happy note, enjoy the chapter! I need food. **

Mitch stumbled through the ashes of his home. Flames began dying out but there were no signs of life. The bodies would have disappeared the moment they died, but the lingering sense of their presence filled the air. As a child he had been told that dead souls watched over them like a spectator in the Hunger Games. It occurred to him they may be watching his every move right now. Mixed emotions of hope and fear came along with that thought. Mitch wasn't quite sure what it meant for him, but as the only known survivor from his family he felt guilty. Here he was, wishing he could get to know Jerome, while his family lay dead or dying. Would they be disappointed in him? Maybe he was meant to live after all. Either way, instinct told him something wasn't right. He cautiously pried through the burnt frame of his house towards the nonexistent kitchen.

The familiar smell of cooking steak engulfed the air, but it made Mitch want to vomit. It no longer signified his mother, but reminded him of her death. He wasn't quite sure how it still existed. It smelled like rotten flesh, he decided. Cold, disgusting, rotten flesh.

The furnaces and fancy ore blocks floated in the air around him, but they no longer seemed cheerful. Only the wool and wood were gone. It was a mistake making their house so flammable, but that was the latest style. When Mitch was younger, they always redid the house to match what people were into. The last style, though, had been there for a little over six years. Mitch remembered getting scolded for crying over losing the bright colored clay he loved, but his sister explained to him that wool was "in". He had seen some regret glisten in her eyes when they replaced the beautiful magenta walls with a fake purple-pink wool. She had left soon after that.

Mitch felt an intense force pull him through the wreckage to the general area his room would've been. Maybe he could save a few possessions. He didn't like how often he was saying maybe, though. That implied hope, and he needed to be definite. Fortunately, he did find something. His parents must've forgotten to give away his stone sword, because it lay burnt on the grass near his gold display. He tenderly picked it up and held it in his hand. It felt good. Familiar, even. The iron sword had felt heavy and fake in his hands, but this soothed him.

Another look at the remains told him that this was it. Mitch's most valued possessions were all gone. His first diamond, a flower a girl gave him, and a piece of obsidian; completely burnt and despawned. He would have given anything for the walls to have been clay still. Maybe his family would still be alive. It bugged Mitch how well he was taking this. Why wasn't he crying at their graves and mourning the loss? Instead he was mourning a bacca. The very people who killed his parents, actually. If Mitch hadn't left Jerome, he could've been captured and killed.

'He left you for your safety,' He told himself. 'He really was good,'

Mitch wanted to believe it, but guilt wouldn't let him. Jerome's people killed Mitch's family and left his life in shambles. Mitch's house was on the far end of the village, so he wasn't sure how everyone else was doing, but he guessed it wasn't well. It could range from little damage to complete destruction, but he needed to know. Besides, he couldn't change how he was raised so quickly. His curiosity got the better of him as he made the short walk. It seemed to take ages now.

Chanting weaved through the buildings as the homes got closer and the streets got wider. An ominous glow was cast off the towering structures and bounced light between the walls. Mitch knew these alleyways by heart from escaping his dad, but they seemed different. The shadows whispered in his ears, telling him something was about to happen. He smelled burning meat and he nearly started crying. Thankfully, a cold wind blew the scent and memories far away from him, leaving a calming yet suspenseful silence. Mitch shivered as he darted in and out of pathways. He wasn't quite sure who was officially in charge of the village, but he didn't want to find out. Getting caught wouldn't satisfy his inquisitiveness.

The voices got so loud Mitch could almost make out what they were saying. "Bacca...revenge...Kill..." The gruff voice was washed away into the others. 'They must be out for revenge!' Mitch thought. 'Maybe they can help me.'

His head wrapped like a snake around the corner and looked at the scene, but he stifled a gasp. The barely illuminated town square held many baccas and dozens of people Mitch recognized. Some of them were in cages while many stood amongst baccas. Even in his confused state, Mitch knew something was wrong with that picture. Baccas and humans never stood together unless they were allies. They were never allies unless they had a common goal. That couldn't be because the baccas' only goal was to destroy their village. Mitch couldn't ponder any longer as the leader stood atop the frozen fountain.

"Fellow baccas and new recruits, I welcome you to the roasting of these filthy humans."

'That is Jerome's dad?' Mitch thought to himself, the meaning of the words passing over his head. 'He seems so... leader-like.'

"After opportunities to join us, they still remain faithful to their leader. Well, I've got news for you: We killed their whole family. No one survived."

'Not me. I am the lone survivor.' Mitch told himself as he drowned out thoughts of their deaths.

"Now you can all go the same way they did: death by fire."

"You'll never win!" A young boy Mitch recognized from school shouted out. Roars of agreement from the cage overlapped the leader so people began firing arrows. Though no shots hit, it quieted them down.

"You are a brave soul. Too bad you didn't join us, like your fellow villagers. I'm sorry to say it, but we've already won. Your leaders are dead, and now it's your turn."

Any plan would work right now. Mitch was desperate.

"I present to you my son, Jerome, to kill off the last of this village!" Cheers erupted, but Mitch focused on the bacca. Hadn't he run away?

Mitch felt his stomach sink as he watched the scene play out. Here he was doing nothing, but what could he do? He wasn't brave or strong, resourceful or clever, and he certainly couldn't take on that many people at once. A small voice in the back of his mind told him the betraying villagers may turn on them, but he knew it was unlikely. If only he could sacrifice himself for his people. Well, maybe he could.

A boy's screams made Mitch focus. He watched the body burn and disappear. Is that what Connor sounded like when he burned to death? The thought threatened to bring up Mitch's lunch. He had to act now.

"Excuse me."

Mitch pushed through the crowd. "Mr. Bacca, sir. There's still a leader left."

Gasps went through the crowd like waves as they turned to Mitch. Jerome's eyes widened and showed anger. "You heard me. You may have snuck up on my father, but I am going to do this officially. I challenge you to a duel for the rights to this land."

The bacca raised an overgrown eyebrow. "Ah, really? And what do you know about being a leader?"

"I know that any brave and honorable leader accepts a duel challenge and stays true to the request." Mitch recited from his textbooks. Another gasp rose into the air and baccas lunged for Mitch, but the leader stopped them.

"Someone payed attention to their daddy!" The leader mocked. "Too bad he's dead. Alright, I'll accept your request. I assume you know the rules?"

"No running away, no pleads for mercy, and no assistance. We may only use swords and bows. Winner gets the land-"

"And loser dies." Mitch bit his lip. "Ah, backing out already? You really are just a child."

Mitch glared. "I'm eighteen, you stupid idiot!" He lunged at the leader and swung his sword with intensity, but his skills were no match. Aside from one lucky blow to the head, every shot was blocked. He grunted in desperation and kept swinging but the leader held him off with one arm, smirking and blowing on his nails with the other.

"I'll admit, you're pretty brave to put the fate of your people in your inexperienced hands."

"You called a ten-year-old brave for yelling. Not exactly a compliment." Mitch gasped between breaths.

"I could end your life here and now, but I like playing with my toys. It's fun to watch them squirm."

Mitch decided calling him the words running his mind was a bad idea. The leader watched as Mitch desperately clawed for just one critical hit, but he couldn't do so. Finally he got bored and shoved Mitch against a wall.

"Enough playtime. You lose, I win the land, time to die!"

"My people will not be burned. They will stay strong." Mitch declared with what little dignity he had left.

"Your people are trapped in a cage." The leader explained. "Now which way do you prefer to die?"

Mitch tried to think of a painless way to keep his courage until the end, but he ran out of time. "Oh well, lava pit sounds good. Say hi to your dad for me!"

Mitch squirmed against the grip until he realized that was what the ruthless bacca wanted. As he was placed along the edge of the pit, burning death blasted his face. His toes peeped over the edge and he glanced around the room one last time. What an odd bunch: Baccas, traitors, innocent child villagers, and desperate parents. Mitch realized he didn't fit into any of the categories, and it made him wonder if this was for the better. Maybe he didn't fit in and his death would be of little consequence. As long as the villagers made it out alive and elected a new leader, they would be fine. Mitch had already proven what a terrible leader he would be; no one in their right mind would walk into enemy hands. It made him wonder what he was thinking. Did he just want to be hero for once?

"As a common curtesy, I'm supposed to ask for your last words. Got any?"

Mitch took one last look before he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for letting you down. I hope you traitors learn someday of the effects of leaving your people. Every one of you should feel guilty. And to my loyal villagers- continue on. Elect a new leader who had more skills than I. It will be okay-"

"Stop being dramatic. Mitch, I'll kill you if you don't die right now!"

The sound of a cage opening followed the angry voice. Mitch could barely process it, much less figure out who had said it in the confused state he was. The villagers rushed out around him and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't let your guard down!" The leader knocked into him and ran as he stumbled into the pit of bubbling hot lava.

**I swear to God I'll update at fast as I can now that I have an idea of what to write next. I don't know if it's just me, but I'd be pissed waiting a week to find out what happens. In the comments, tell me what you would've done if you were Mitch watching his people die! I'd probably use my solution to every problem: Punch 'em in the face. **

**~Scarlett**


	6. We Need a Plan

**I have this fantasy that Merome really is real but they're too afraid to tell the fans. They tease each other and drop hints but they never officially announce it. **

**And yes, I did go on a Merome Fanfiction obsession today. Only 5hrs this time. **

An impact rippled through Mitch's body, but he hardly noticed. What really bugged him was the searing pain shooting through his veins from lava. This was it, he would die just like his parents and brother. At least he was free of guilt. He wouldn't survive and feel awful. The warmth engulfed him and he felt free. It was like a soft pillow and cozy blanket carrying him off to death. If this is what dying felt like, Mitch could sure get used to it. It made him want to close his eyes and sleep forever.

It couldn't happen, though, because an annoying voice kept calling to him. In Mitch's hazy world he heard desperate cries. 'They're probably upset that they're missing this,' He thought to himself. Who wouldn't want this amazing feeling?

A rough hand grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the bed. Mitch frowned. "What are you doing?" He slurred. "I was sleeping!"

"Shut up and drink this." A cold glass bottle was shoved in his mouth and a sweet-tasting liquid dribbled down his throat. Mitch punched and kicked the voice but it held still.

"I wanna go sleep in the lava!" He whined.

The voice replied in annoyance. "Mitch, you're hallucinating. Probably in shock. Just quiet down."

"No!" He began to cry like a child.

Somehow the figure grabbed and scooped Mitch into his arms. The warm lava was forgotten as he snuggled into the furry chest. "Fluffy? When did you get arms?" Mitch asked. "Wolves don't have arms, silly!" The voice hushed him, but he insisted on babbling. "Your chest is warm, Fluffy. Didn't you die in a fire?" Mitch strained to remember when, but he couldn't place it. "Oh well. We're together now. You're the best pet ever."

"You can't even talk correctly. Go to sleep."

For once Mitch was happy to oblige. "Okay, Mr. Wolf." He drifted off into extravagant and extraordinary dreams.

A sharp pain went through Mitch's right arm and he awoke with a start. "Oh, did I hit you with my claw? Sorry about that."

He blinked to clear his vision but could hardly believe what he saw. "Jerome?"

He couldn't see much in the darkness, but a soft glow emitted from the furnaces. Sounds of zombies and skeletons filled the silence as he struggled to piece this all together. The bacca continuously worked on manning the furnaces without glancing at Mitch. "How were your hallucinations?"

"Excuse me?" He asked.

"You don't remember?" Jerome stood up and crossed the leaves to a small chest. Mitch realized they were in a tall jungle tree and tried not to look down. "You fell into a pit of lava. I had to force a fire resistance potion down your throat and carry you here. You're very light, but it's hard to climb a tree while holding an unconscious body."

"But what did you mean by hallucinations?"

"Oh, you were babbling." He handed Mitch a steak. "Talking about Fluffy the wolf and sleeping in lava."

"I would never!" Mitch insisted. Jerome laughed and he studied the bacca. Random acts of kindness were unfamiliar to him, so an enemy saving his life twice was confusing. Mitch just wanted to know why. Jerome could've won the war for his father, or killed Mitch ages ago. Yet he was still alive and Jerome had abandoned his father. It was all so complex. "What do we do now?"

Jerome shrugged. "You're still a bit shaken up, so I can't very well leave you here. Most human villages won't accept me, and no bacca tribes will accept you. I guess we have to stay here for now."

Mitch sighed and looked at the starry night sky. It had only been a mere 48 hours since his life was destroyed, but it felt like eternity. Another tale his mother told him when he was younger was that lost souls became twinkling stars in the sky. He wondered if his family was up there. His eye was drawn to a cheerful-looking one; it was definitely his brother. Two more stars stayed close together. One grew brighter than the other. In fact, it was so bright it seemed stand out from all the other stars. The other stood smaller yet faithfully by its side. 'My parents,' He thought to himself.

Mitch couldn't help but hope there weren't any of his fellow villagers in the sky. He was technically their leader, after all, so their death was on his hands. He vaguely remembered the sound of a cage opening before his memory went blank, but that didn't mean all of them escaped. "Jerome, what happened to the villagers?"

"I stole the key from my father and let them out. One of then gave me two fire resistance potions, so I saved you. Don't worry, they're safe."

Mitch wasn't so sure. He vaguely remembered a hunting trip his dad went on where he got lost. Other hunters convinced everyone he died, and the thought of not having a leader sent everyone into panic. If they were truly alive but leaderless right now, he didn't want to think of the chaos. "Jerome, I need to go back."

"That's ridiculous." He said as he handed Mitch a steak. The smell made him feel nauseous and push the food away. "My father may still be in the area, and I'm not in the mood to deal with him. I'm not sure if you know how my people deal with traitors, but they basically execute them publicly. Everyone is forced to watch."

Mitch shuddered at the thought. He couldn't imagine the idea of being afraid of your parents. Sure, his dad was strict and his mom was crazy, but he never felt intimidated by them. He just spent a lot of time away from them. He would've moved out soon, anyways.

A thought popped into Mitch's mind. "Jerome, we're going to Spawn City."

"What?"

"No, seriously. No one will judge you there, a lot of people are crazier than what humans perceive baccas to be. You can be free there!"

"You have to have a better reason that equality." Jerome insisted.

"Well, my village needs a leader. And the little stunt I pulled earlier basically proves I wouldn't be good at it-"

"What will going to Spawn City do for you?" He interrupted. Mitch smiled.

"I'm going to find my sister."

**Writing about people hallucinating is fun. You know what's really fun to write, though? The scene I have planned that should just be called feels. All I'll say is Merome fiuff ;) Leave a ****review telling me which events in Mitch and Jerome's YouTube career you'd like me include! I needs ideas dood.**

**~Scarlett**

**PS: In case you can't tell by the insanity, I'm still sick. I've haven't been to school in a week :( **


	7. On His Own

**I am tired. I'm too lazy to write an A/N. Uh... Thanks for 1,500 views! I was just about to thank you for 1,000. **

Jerome laughed, but stopped and frowned when Mitch didn't join in. "Oh, you were serious?" He asked.

Mitch rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course I was. What's wrong with that plan?"

"Lots of things." Jerome said. "For one, I'm pretty sure you don't know where your sister is. Two, it's a three-day journey from here. Three, we have no supplies and four, what will that accomplish?"

"I'm a failure at being a leader." Mitch said simply. "Kyleigh, however, was excellent at it. I can bring her back to the village and have her take over. I have to tell her the news at some point, anyways."

"How long has it been since you last saw her?"

Mitch counted on his nonexistent fingers. "Um... Six years."

"Exactly." Jerome went back to working as if the argument was over, but Mitch was far from finished.

"It doesn't matter how long it has been since I've seen her, she's my sister! She has to listen me." Mitch insisted.

"Biggums, I hate to break this to you," Jerome started, "but people forget. She has probably moved on by now."

Mitch huffed. "What's your genius plan?"

He shrugged. "Get you out of shock, find humans to take care of you, and live the rest of my days in the wilderness."

"You would just abandon me like that?"

Jerome frowned. "You didn't think we could spend our lives together, did you? I'm sorry, but I've told you before: humans and baccas can't stay together. If we didn't kill each other someone else would. People don't like it; for some reason they get uncomfortable. You'll be fine, though. You can find some human friends."

"But-" Mitch stopped. He had only known the animal for a day. Saying 'I don't want human friends, I want you' would make him seem overly attached. "Your father is still out there. What if he finds you? You need me to protect you."

"I've saved your life twice, and you've saved mine zero times. You owe me this."

"Jerome." He pleaded, giving up on arguing.

"I'm sorry, buddy, but we can't be seen together."

Mitch crossed his arms for a moment before standing up. "Fine. I'm going to Spawn City, so enjoy your life!" He climbed down the base of the tree.

"Mitch, wait." Mitch's heart lifted as he waited for the words. 'Stay with me', he hoped Jerome would say.

Something dropped to the ground. "You forgot your sword."

Heartbroken and annoyed, Mitch stomped off into the rising sun.

Snow fell all around Mitch as he weaved through tall trees. The stone sword no longer felt right in his hands. It was dull and much too light, and a small and barely noticeable claw scratch burned on his palm. Of course Jerome would find a way to ruin his journey. No matter where he went, holding this sword would remind him of what he left behind. Granted, Mitch would've been abandoned soon, but it still made him angry. The bacca had made his already-in-shambles life worse.

Parts of the "hallucination", as Jerome had called it, started coming back to Mitch. He remembered being warm and snuggling against the bacca. That's probably why he thought it was Fluffy- when Mitch was younger, he would always curl up with the wolf in bed. As much as he hated to admit it, he would do nearly anything to be like that again, snuggled up into Jerome's warm fur. It was already cold enough in the Taiga biome; the freezing March wind really didn't help. Mitch tried to shield himself from the blasts.

He really had no clue where he was going. The furthest he'd ever gone from his village was a few hundred blocks away on a hunting trip. He didn't now where Jerome had brought him, either, so he was really lost. Mitch sighed as a sliver of knowledge entered his mind. His teacher had told him that baccas had a great sense of direction. Just another thing that made Mitch want Jerome back. No matter how hard he tried, Mitch couldn't get the animal out of his head. It was sad how attached he was after only spending five hours conscious with him. Mitch wondered of this was what happened when a person was deprived of friends their whole life. As soon as he met someone nice, he was addicted. That would really screw up his life in the future, considering how he'd probably never see the bacca again.

Another fact popped into his brain, making him think he was sort of useful. His father had shown him long ago how to find where north was. He remembered that particular hunting trip, the last one with his wooden sword...

_Mitch trotted alongside his dad, who was taking smaller steps so he could keep up. "Daddy, where are we?" He asked, his small head swiveling around. "I don't remember this."_

_His father looked around. "Oh. I'm not sure." He lied._

_Mitch grabbed his leg in a death grip. "Are we gonna die?"_

_Father pulled him off his leg. "Be brave, son, or you'll never make a good leader. Don't worry because I know a way out."_

_His eyes grew with admiration. "How?"_

_"Look at these trees." He walked them over to an old, rotten, leaning oak tree. "Tell me what you see."_

_Mitch was unsure of leaving the protective hands that encased his, but he eventually broke away and approached the tree. His small hands chased the intricate curves as he inspected the plant. The bark scratched his finger and he jumped, thinking something had bitten him. His father chuckled and pushed him forward again. Mitch frowned and circled the tree like an interrogator testing a suspect. He didn't see anything particularly great about the tree, so he turned and gave a confused glance at his father._

_"Try focusing in on certain senses." His father said. "Close your eyes and feel it,"_

_Though he was apprehensive, he did as he was told. His fingers delicately brushed over cracks and holes in the bark, this time careful not to run into any sharp edges. They creeped and prowled around apple blossom buds and twigs. Suddenly they discovered something soft and pillowy. His eyes fluttered open and he frowned._

_"Moss." His father said. "Only grows on the north side of trees."_

_"How does that help?" Mitch's seven-year-old brain couldn't yet process the information._

_"Do you know which direction the village is?" Mitch shook his head. "Alright, why don't we think about what we do each night? Mommy, Kyleigh, and your baby brother watch the sunset in the forest with you." Mitch loved seeing the splashes of color. "What direction does the sun set in?"_

_"West." Mitch said. He always asked his mom._

_"And since we went through the forest, we went to the west of the village."_

_"So all we need is to go east?" Mitch asked. His dad nodded and Mitch tugged him to the right. A smile captured his face, the idea of being useful an amazing feeling._

Mitch wished he had kept that relationship with his father, but that was before he became a workaholic. At least now he knew where to go. Checking the trucks around him, he followed the trail of moss north to his new life: Spawn City.

**I need sleep. In the reviews, let me know of you need sleep. Oh, and if you're happy/sad that Mitch left Jerome. Goodbye for now. **

**~Scarlett the Sleep Deprived**


	8. This Is Extremely Late

**I haven't updated in a couple weeks. Oh god, this is turning into an Equinox's Revenge upload schedule. **

**As for the last couple of weeks, I have no explanation but stress and memorizing lines for a play. But I can explain these last couple of days. **

***Mini-Rant ahead. Proceed with caution.***

**So there's this guy in a play with me, and I've been aware that he likes me for a few weeks now. Just so you know, I don't like him at all. No one does, but I was always nice to him. So I find out he likes me and all the little comments he's been making make sense. But anyways, I ignored the flirting until last night. We're all in a circle trying to look at pictures, but I feel a hand on the small of my back. I thought it was my friend so I didn't move it, but I finally realized it was him. I told him to stop touching me and moved his arm away, but he put it back. I punched his arm and repeated my warning but he refused to let go. After about six times and me threatening to kill him, another girl sees and yells at him. (thank god, I love that girl now 3) I have only exchanged glares, lines, and play-related topics with him since. And yes, I was so confused and helpless that I didn't think to walk away. **

**Now my friends have blown it all out of proportion and are trying to get him suspended for "inappropriately touching me" and making rude comments to other girls. I have a meeting with the principal on Monday. I'm still kind of in shock, so I need some time to think this over. It isn't so much that he touched me but more that him and I are alone together backstage for 15 minutes. He is messed up, so I don't know what he'll try. Ahh, the stress. **

***Rant over***

**And just as a disclaimer, I am not looking for sympathy. I just need to man up: it isn't like I got raped or anything, so yeah... I'll deal with it eventually. On that happy note... Enjoy a boring chapter!**

Traveling wasn't something Mitch typically did, and he was starting to find he despised it.

Three days he has been searching for Spawn City. It was only supposed to take him that long, but he had yet to see the shining beacon that indicated his destination was within reach. The heart of the city, the most famous Hunger Games arena, held the light that beamed into the air to show travelers the way. It was often considered a symbol of hope and new beginnings. Travelers who came to Mitch's old village would tell tales of the new life they wanted at Spawn City. The streets were paved with gold, they claimed. Everyone had plenty of food and armor. Unique weapons were crafted and no mobs were let in. It didn't matter what or who you were, you were accepted. As a young boy Mitch thought it was too good to be true. Now he had second thoughts. His new and improved life was all he had to cling to through the pain, however. His feet were sore from walking. His calves ached from going up and down mountains. Unfortunately, he had crossed paths with an extreme hills biome. The very thought of that climb made him cringe.

Constant remarks from sheep made him think they were mocking him. He was going crazy, he told himself, yet there was something harsh and humiliating that came with each baa. "You did this to yourself!" They taunted him. "Ha ha, the human has to climb a hill!"

He rammed his sword through one and they all fell silent. "Shut up." He muttered before continuing on his way. One brave sheep let out a small baa, but it trembled and scampered away when Mitch turned to glare at it.

His patience was running low. Half of him wanted to chop down some nearby trees, build a house, and live their forever. He had been observing the land and saw very few edible animals, though, so that was out. He considered turning back around, but that would really be no use. He had no life behind him, and he had to keep reminding himself of that. Mitch honestly wondered if this was all a nightmare, but the excruciating pain of being in that lava made him rule that out as well. He sighed and plopped onto a rock.

A refreshing spring breeze rustled the leaves around him. Mitch could see flowers popping up despite the light snow covering the ground. His mother always told him March came in like a lion and out like a lamb, but this seemed a bit early for the lamb part. It wasn't that Mitch was against spring, but the atmosphere just didn't match his mood. Everything was beginning to be happy a new while Mitch felt upset and lost. His heart ached for some company, particularly a fluffy mammal. After losing everything he loved Mitch knew he got attached easily. While a normal person would see Jerome as a nice person who helped them, Mitch felt an instant connection. He silently cursed emotions for doing this to him.

As he trekked on, he couldn't help but wonder where Jerome was. It wasn't a feeling of worry, but more like hope. Maybe they'd meet up again and Mitch could apologize. As he thought into it, Mitch recognized a longing he had hidden beneath scenes of the reunion playing through his mind. He didn't like to admit it, but he hoped the bacca missed him. Maybe it was because Mitch wanted to know he wasn't the only one with these feelings, or maybe the bacca had captured his heart. In a friendly way, anyways.

Mitch sighed and kicked a stone as he continued down the gravel path. He had found it when walking through the woods earlier, and every once in a while a sign would point towards Spawn City.

Even without the path, the city wouldn't have been hard to find. Over half of Minecraftia's human inhabitants lived within city boundaries, so the place was huge. It was rumored that the inner city stretched 5,000 blocks from end to end. The outer ring held suburban neighborhoods and farmers. Mitch had never been there personally, but older villagers gave vivid accounts of their travels there. Even as he grew older, Mitch was on the edge of his seat with each word. They had a called it a "glorious, magnificent place with variety and culture". Any normal individual would perk up at such an opportunity. If the journey wasn't so long, Mitch was sure nearly everyone would want to move there.

Alas, even Mitch tired out eventually. He was an ideal age and strength for such a task, but a combination of fatigue and sleep deprivation caused every bone in his body to ache with overuse. He had made good progress throughout the day. Satisfied with his work, Mitch climbed a tree and tried to get comfy for the long night ahead of him.

_A younger girl stood in front of him. She was very pretty, but Mitch felt a sudden disliking towards her. Annoying, he told himself. She's a pest._

_"I know I've asked you a few times," She said in an unsure yet cheery voice, "but will you go out with me?"_

_Mitch rolled his eyes without thinking. "You've asked me two times and I've rejected you." What was happening? He certainly wasn't saying those things._

_"C'mon, Mitchy. Just one date?" Her eyes filled with desperation._

_"If I say yes will you go away?" He asked._

_She broke into a grin. "Yay! I'll see you Friday at the cake shop!"_

_Mitch wondered why he couldn't control what was happening. Had he just gotten into a date with a stranger?_

_The scene blurred and he awoke in a small café, by the looks of it. The same girl sat teary-eyed in front of him._

_"Why won't you date me?" She whined._

_"I only promised this one date." He reasoned. She sniffed._

_"You're a... A jerk! I hate you Mitchell Hughes!" She huffed and stormed out if the building._

_Go after her, he willed himself. Are you really going to turn down your one chance with a girl?_

_His body refused to move that way. He pulled some gold out of his pockets, set it on and walked out, casually ignoring all the stares directed at him._

Mitch bolted awake and sighed. The dream seemed so familiar to him it was scary. Even though it was five whole years ago, it felt like it was yesterday. He had a girl pestering him and when they finally went on a date she yelled at him. It was his only girlfriend to date, and that reminder always made him stress a bit. He needed a woman in his life so he could run the village properly. Well, not anymore.

Thinking about girls reminded him of his sister. Finally focused and on task, Mitch once again set down the cold and lonely path.

**I know it sucks, but I wanted to update. I have the most amazing #Merome-ish plot twist planned, but getting to that point is long and boring. In the comments, let me know what you think will happen when (if? :p) Mitch gets to Spawn City. I'm going I wonder why I attract all these weird, pervertEd guys now, bye!**

**~Scarlett, the Girl Who is Being a Baby About a Guy Touching Her**


	9. Not a Chapter

**I've realized my last post was really immature in the A/N, so sorry for that. I shouldn't bug you with problems I overreact to. Since I'm having trouble deciding how this story should play out, I published a Merome One-shot. Enjoy that as I work out the next chapter! **

**~Scarlett**


	10. The Flaw In The Plan

**So at All County Band two days ago a guy attempted to steal my drum set part and, less than an hour afterwards, proceeded to ask me for my number and launch a bunch of personal questions at me. **

**What. The. Heck. **

**Sorry for bugging you guys with my nonexistent love life, but what is happening? A month ago guys didn't know I existed, and now... One guy has basically hinted he's going to ask me to a dance, the creepy perv put his arms around me, and now this? Have I just become undeniably attractive? I mean, I still wake up and scream when I look in the mirror... You know, let's just go with undeniably attractive ;)**

**And I know this is late, but I swear I had this done two days ago. Internet troubles literally cause my life to crash and burn. Here, take this before it crashes again. Enjoy. **

After four days of traveling, Mitch really couldn't find the strength to complain about the awful smell just outside city limits or the length of the lines to get in.

The housing situation was another story.

Outside the city, small dumps had collected. Mushrooms littered the ground and people lived in small dirt villages. Mitch thought of his own home and couldn't believe how well his family was doing. These people had a few beat-up iron swords while his family had enough to decorate their house with it. Lots of zombies hid in darkened corners. After seeing that, he didn't think it could get worse. Mitch had waited four hours to push past people and earn citizenship. It didn't seem like much at the time, but as he stared at his fate a small part of him crumbled.

Sure, the rich quarters of the city looked nice. Private mansions were scattered down a street to his right, along with personal hot tubs and expensive fountains. The upper middle-class citizens enjoyed a community with large houses, pools, and lots of open yards. Even the middle-class residents seemed content with their tall apartment buildings and streets full of cafés. No, these conditions certainly were great.

It was then that Mitch looked into his empty palms and pockets and became aware of the flaw in his plan.

How could he have been so stupid as to not realize this already? It must've been his rich past. He was used to money always being there for him, but now it wasn't. He simply had no place to go except the undesirable street to his left.

There weren't signs that proclaimed the state of the residents, but Mitch was fairly certain anyone could tell. If the rags, cobblestone and wood housing, stray animals, and thin people didn't give it away, he didn't know what would. It was the homeless people who, desperate and hungry, crowded in an alleyway to stay alive. Every city had them. Occasionally the men in the family would walk amongst other citizens and beg for gold ingots, but most people refused to donate. Everyone who dared go near this side of town were tough and selfish. Those poor starving folks sure were hopeless.

Us starving folks, he corrected. It was hard to comprehend that he was now one of them. In a few days, he would join the thin and underfed folks he observed now, but he'd be clinging onto the last bit of life left in him. Mitch remembered his village's own alleyway, though it was far less populated. A few beggars would drift outside the isolated corner and ask Mitch for money on his way to school. Now he was wishing he had helped sometime; maybe fate wouldn't have been so cruel. This was like a stab in the back for taking his life for granted: he would live like the less fortunate his family mocked.

Mitch wasn't positive how these things worked, to be completely honest. There didn't seem to be any place to sign up for the alleyway or to divide living space. Was it all memorized? Or was Mitch simply over thinking this? He had always had a place to live and never really interacted with these... Places. Lost and hopeless, Mitch began wandering the streets. His eyes saw brilliant structures, statues, and rich people. Eventually he realized little signs were placed on the streets, giving details about the city. "An alternate name for Spawn City that the ancients used is Yout Ube.** (Ignore the blatantly obvious symbolism)** Hmm..." He read to himself. "Interesting." He began to notice how many children wandered the streets alone. Most of them looked to be younger than a teenager, and it made Mitch curious as to why they were here. This section of town didn't seem like a good place for youngsters. Did he just say youngsters? God, he was getting old.

There really seemed to be no point to standing there like an idiot. New citizens flooded in behind him and swept across the land, leaving Mitch in a place where people bumped and pushed past him. No money had magically appeared yet, so Mitch figured he really was on his own. It wasn't that he was expecting anything, but a small part of him wished his mother or father would float by and hand him a stack of ingots. Then again, this was the same part of him who couldn't believe his parents were dead, but that obviously wasn't true. They were gone like bones at Fluffy's feeding time.

Thinking about Fluffy and his parents reminded Mitch why he was really here: to find Kyleigh and take her home. He wasn't quite sure where she was... Or what she looked like... But he'd find her. There had to be a way. As he started down the alleys he wondered if she was as poor as him. He hoped not, but in a way he did. He knew if she was in some fancy mansion and he showed up empty-handed she'd laugh. Kyleigh was always like that, at least from what Mitch remembered. Not necessarily a bragger, but she often looked down upon Mitch. That's just how older siblings work, he reasoned. Maybe Conner had felt the same way about him.

"Bad Mitch." he murmured to himself. "Snap out of it." It must've been his tiredness that caused this queer conversation with himself. Regardless of his exhaustion levels, he needed to focus. His peripheral vision caught sight of a nearby stream. An idea came to mind and he rushed over. His hands trembled about from the coldness as he dipped his hands into the felt refreshing and relaxing, a feeling Mitch hadn't experienced in a few days. Sure, the water was dirty and polluted, but it was water. The closest thing he had had to drink lately was his own saliva, and that wasn't satisfying. Besides, this was pretty good where he was going.

"Back to the task at hand." He muttered as he stood up. He started walking down the streets wandering aimlessly. Mitch turned a corner to continue looking for something to help his situation, but stopped as he saw a crowd gathering. A few dozen people stood in a tight bunch around a speaker. Mitch couldn't see or hear the person clearly, but he managed to make out a few words. As he got closer the voice sent chills down his back.

"Hey, look, it's Sarah Palin's house!" A roar of laughter rose from the surrounding figures. The voice seemed so... Familiar. Mitch inched closer to confirm his suspicions.

"Well, thanks for watching this demonstration on how to find Alaska! This has been-" Mitch gasped as he saw the face of the speaker.

"Jerome?"

**That could've been such a good cliffhanger if I was a good writer... Sigh. In the comments let me know if you understood where Jerome's little speech came from! I love you if you do, you're a true fan :)**

**Its like a million degrees in my room and I think my legs are burning off**

**~Scarlett, the Girl Who's So Hot She Burns (Get it? Cause I'm undeniably attractive and... Yeah I'm sleep deprived once again.)**


	11. The Channels of Yout Ube

**Yay this update didn't take a week! Woo! I'm trying to upload more often to gain back some readers I've lost, though I love you people who've stuck through my slow upload schedule! I have spring break next week, so expect closer together uploads. **

**And for the guest who was wondering what I look like... Imagine a photo of Frankinstien's Bride ten times uglier. Crumple up the picture, throw it in the wash, and your final product will be me! This method is completely accurate. **

**Enjoy le crappy filler chapter!**

"Jerome?"

The talking seized as a tall, furry figure parted the small crowd. "Excuse me, coming through..." Their eyes met. "Mitch? How ya doin', buddy?"

'Why isn't he mad at me?' Mitch thought to himself. "Uh... Can I talk to you?"

"Go ahead."

He looked at the confused crowd around them. "Alone, please?"

Jerome nodded. "Thanks for listening to this how-to! See you all tomorrow!" Onlookers muttered words of thanks and dispersed slowly, some making comments to Jerome and some saying they liked it. A few individuals said phrases of dislike (and yes, that probably isn't proper English) and departed with no reason why. Jerome frowned at these but turned his attention back to Mitch. "Hey buddy!"

"So, Jerome..." Mitch picked his brain for a nice way to ask why the bacca didn't hate his guts, but eventually gave up. "Why don't you hate me?"

"Hate you?" He chuckled. "I never hated you. You're the one who got mad and walked away from me."

"Not true." At least not how Mitch remembered it. He pictured the scene as the bacca yelling at him and throwing his sword, but maybe that wasn't accurate. "Fine, you may or may not be right. But why are you here? I definitely remember you saying you weren't coming here."

"Well..." Jerome clasped his paws as if to protect himself from the criticism to follow. "I was thinking about what you were saying, how I'd be free here. And I kind of had a run-in with some of my tribe members-"

Mitch immediately started coming up with scenarios in his mind. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"No, not like that!" Jerome explained. "They were friendly, but they warned me about my dad and the rest of the tribe. Apparently saving a human combined with hurting a tribe member is one of the highest defenses. I'm set to be publicly executed as soon as I'm found."

"That's horrible!" Mitch exclaimed, guilt overwhelming him. "I'm sorry saving me came at such a high price. I'm really not worth it."

Jerome smiled weakly. "I would've annoyed my dad at sometime or another and went down the same path. At least this was for a good cause. Besides, I'm happy now. I never told you what I was just doing."

"Alright, continue." Mitch said reluctantly. He figured that he'd never get it through Jerome's head that his life wasn't worth saving.

"Anyways. I got here and looked for your for a day, but you weren't here yet. I was trying to decide what to do when I found out about this system called channels."

"Channels?" Mitch asked.

"Yeah." He replied. "Weird name, but cool system. What you do is sign up and create a name for your channel. Then you are provided a small house you can decorate and personalize as you please. Your job is basically to give presentations and entertain other people in the city, much like I just did."

"Do you get paid?"

"Not really until your channel gets bigger." He said. "I'm not quite there yet. They still provide you with a house, but food and materials are your own responsibility. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Sounds awesome!" Mitch exclaimed. "Entertaining people and getting paid? Sweet! What's your channel's name?"

"AwesomeSauceFilms." Jerome said proudly.

"What's a film?" Mitch asked.

Jerome shrugged. "I don't know. It sounds cool though, so it works."

He smiled. "Jerome, how many people can run a channel?"

"As many as you'd like." He said. "Why, you want in?"

"I have no money, food, water, or entertainment skills." Mitch warned.

"Perfect! You're hired!" Jerome lightly grabbed Mitch's wrist and led him though the crowd. "Let's go to the house."

After a few minutes of walking they arrived at the home. It wasn't as shabby as the poor homes, but it certainly wasn't a mansion. "I know it isn't much, but here we are!"

The wooden door creaked open and they peered inside. Jerome appeared to have decorated already: the floor was carpeted, furniture was in place, and painting hung on the walls. A fire was going in the fireplace, the light emitting an ominous yet comforting glow. Torchlights danced along the dark wooden walls and illuminated strips of the floor. Mitch looked at Jerome and smiled.

"I thought you said your channel wasn't doing well!" Mitch said. "This is really nice."

"Thanks!" Jerome said. "I tried to make it home-like." Mitch searched the walls and gazed upon each picture. There were an assortment of kings and queens, animals, and wizards. Each painting told a unique story that touched Mitch's heart. Either he was feeling sentimental today or he needed sleep. Probably both.

"I'm a bit tired, I'll just sleep on this couch." Mitch began adjusting himself but Jerome stopped him.

"No way! I have a room prepared for you over here." Jerome dragged him to a nicely built room with a soft, comfy, tempting bed... "Mitch!"

Mitch bolted upwards. "Wha- Oh. Um, thanks." He stuttered. "It's like you knew I was coming."

"My bacca senses were tingling." Jerome shrugged as if that were the most normal thing to day.

Not wanting to have further conversation, Mitch smiled gratefully and collapsed on the bed.

**Hopefully I can start the real plot soon. Surprisingly, there actually is an attempt at a plot in this story! In the comments, let me know what you think will happen next based on your knowledge of Mitch and Jerome's life. Maybe I'm the only one who knows this much about them...**

**~Scarlett the Stalking Fangirl**


	12. Too Much Talk About Food

**Good news, readers! I got asked out with a Rubix cube to a dance last Friday, now you won't have to listen to endless tales of my romantic (not really) misery! He isn't even a perv or a stranger! Yay!**

**I do have bad news, though. In case you can't tell I'm beginning to lose interest in this story. Now those of you who actually like this story, don't worry. I made a vow to never go on hiatus or leave a story unfinished, so this story will continue as planned. Updates may just be few and far between. I hope you can forgive me, but not all stories work out like I hope. Enjoy!**

Mitch's eyes fluttered open to a see a dark room with blurry shapes. Feeling extremely confused, he rubbed his eyes to try and see better, but his attempts failed. Panic struck him when he realized why it wasn't working: he couldn't feel his hands. Immediately he bolted upright and started pinching his arms.

"Oh." He muttered as he realized what must've been causing this. "I'm dreaming, but I'm aware of it. Is this what lucid dreams are?"

Suddenly his robot friend Mat, Jerome, an image of himself, and some strange person appeared before him. Jerome was standing next to his image and Mat slowly wandered over. A bit later, the stranger did as well but left quickly. They seemed to be exchanging comments that Mitch couldn't hear which made watching the scene a bit awkward. Suddenly they scattered; Jerome and Mitch were relatively close while Mat was a good distance away. Mitch wondered what was happening and why he was watching this.

A loud rumbling noise seemed to be coming closer and Mitch trembled in fear, though he wasn't quite sure why. The shadows that had encased the confusing scene parted, revealing a terrifying monster. It had blonde ponytails, cheap lipstick, and wore a shirt and foam finger that said #1 fan. "Merome." It said as it approached fake Mitch and Jerome. She studied them before shoving their faces together in some sort of kiss, the two reluctantly obeying. Mitch gaped as they deepened the kiss. The face began morphing into that of a familiar bacca... Jerome's father? "Merome! #Merome! Mero-"

Mitch shot upwards and gasped for air. He could see clearly this time, but he pinched himself just to make sure. "Ouch!" He yelled. Yes, he was clearly awake.

"Mitch?" Jerome's voice grew closer as Mitch tried to review the contents of the dream. It seemed so real. "Biggums, you're pale as a ghost. What happened?"

"Dream." He muttered, still a bit dazed. "Robot, monster fan dad, kissing-"

Jerome chuckled. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"I-" Mitch figured telling Jerome his dream was about the two of them kissing was a bad way to start off a friendship. "It's nothing. Just a dream, that's all."

"Oh really?" Mitch knew Jerome knew he was lying, but the two decided to ignore that. "Fine. What do you want for breakfast? I have some cooked food since you humans like it that way."

Mitch tried to inhale the scent cooking meat, but he gagged instead. "Is that... Steak?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Thoughts of his mother's furnaces and rotten flesh filled his mind. "If it isn't too much trouble for you, I'd prefer that we didn't eat steak often."

"Sure, but-" Jerome paused and began to study Mitch. Maybe he saw how pale the boy was, or maybe he just thought it would be better, but the bacca finished his sentence with a sigh. "No problem. Potatoes are far healthier."

Mitch smiled gratefully and pulled himself out of bed. "Thanks."

"If you want to wash dirt off of you, feel free to use the bath in there. Breakfast is in twenty minutes." Jerome left him alone in the unfamiliar room.

Mitch noted the walls were made of blue stained clay and not wool; not only did that remind him of his nice old room, but it was fireproof. A small chest at the foot of the bed contained some clothing items so personalized that he was convinced Jerome knew he was coming. How the bacca knew his personal style Mitch didn't know, but that wasn't for him to question. Right now he needed to relax. He chose a grey hoodie, jeans, and sneakers and dragged them into the small bathroom.

After bathing and dressing, the effects of the odd dream seemed to have disappeared. Mitch reasoned the thoughts were from his copious amounts of travel and that he wasn't feeling like himself. Once he made that decision all thoughts about dreams seized, leaving him with a clear mind. Relief washed over him as he made his way to the kitchen. Thankfully, the awful smell of steak had been replaced with warm potatoes.

Jerome was nibbling on raw porkchop when Mitch came in. "Oh, hey. Sorry I started already, I was really hungry."

"No problem." Mitch took his seat and smiled gratefully. "Thank you for cooking." The politeness seemed awkward and forced, but they didn't seem to be on a level of being informal yet. Mitch felt like he'd known the bacca forever but it'd only been a few days. Being ride or ungrateful would go against everything his mother taught him, not to mention dishonor her memory. She would find a way to strangle him from the dead.

Mitch tried very hard to eat silently and neatly, but Jerome seemed to have a different idea. He hungrily gobbled down piece after piece of raw meat and got bits of it everywhere, even stuck in his fur. Mitch suppressed a giggle as he took a third potato. It was sort of adorable how different Jerome was from him. If he believed in manners, Jerome ignored all social cues. He chose axes over swords and ate raw food over cooked. A small laugh escaped his lips.

"What?" Jerome asked. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

Mitch smiled. "I'm just thinking."

"Oh." He took another bite of meat. "I found this really cool game we could play today."

"Really? What is it about?"

"You have to shoot other players and you get points and stuff. It's called Call of Duty and it seems cool. They're using this new technology called Respawning."

"Respawning?" Mitch asked, intrigued. "How does that work?"

"It makes it possible for you to die and come back to life with no pain. A player sets up a certain area with a special force field to contain the power. Then, when anyone dies they reappear at the designated spawn point."

"That's amazing!" Mitch exclaimed. "How do they do that?"

"I'm not sure." Jerome answered. "I want to look into it, though. I'd love to learn."

He nodded in approval and started another potato. "When do you want to leave?"

"I have to stop by the market to grab some vegetables, but we can go afterwards."

"Perfect." Mitch finished his potatoes and headed back to his room to tidy up.

An hour later they were both walking into the village square. Sellers' calls to buy their products echoed throughout the gathering area. The square looked much like his own villages', but Mitch tried not to think about that. Bad memories wouldn't help start his new life.

Jerome led him through the colorful booths. Arrangements of flowers, bread, and fish caught his eye but Jerome kept dragging him past. "No, those are vile creatures." He scolded as Mitch inspected some cooked fish. Mitch frowned but allowed himself to be brought to their destination: a breathtaking array of carrots and raw meat.

"Jerome, lad, how are you today?" A chubby seller shook the bacca's hand and grinned.

"Great, Marty, and you?" Mitch sensed Jerome had stopped here often.

"Sales are high today! I think it's the opening of that new game fifty blocks from here. Ma always said men love food after fighting to the death!"

Jerome chuckled. "Right you are. How much are you asking for some fish and carrots?"

"Carrots?" He asked, perplexed. "I thought you only ate raw meat."

"I do."

"Oh." He glanced between the two. "Is this for your little boyfriend then?"

Mitch blushed and struggled to respond, but Jerome talked for him. "He's a member of my channel, Marty. Strictly business."

"I see." The salesman eyes Mitch suspiciously before returning to the sale. "Carrots are three gold ingots a stack and raw fish are six."

"Oh." Jerome said simply, and odd glint in his eyes. "I was really hoping to get some from you today, but Bill over there is selling for three a stack."

"He is?" Marty glared at the competition.

"Yeah. I came here first since you have the freshest fish in the city. You said yourself that business is high today, but I don't know... Five is a lot..."

Marty looked at him and sighed. "I can't really afford to lower it by much, but you are a faithful customer. How about, say, four a stack?"

"I think I can manage that." Jerome said. "Your fish is amazing. One stack of each, please." Marty and Jerome exchanged goods while Mitch watched in awe. "See you tomorrow! Good luck with business!"

"How did you do that?" Mitch asked.

"That, my friend, is bargaining." Jerome grinned. "Thank goodness he has bad eyesight, otherwise he would have seen that Bill is selling for six a stack."

Mitch eyes widened. "You lied?"

"I strategized." Jerome answered. "Come on, let's drop these off at home." Mitch watched in shock as the clever bacca walked away with his prizes.

**I know that's a weird place to end but I figured shoving a long description of their first COD game would overdo it. Leave a review telling me how you think it will go and what events/videos you'd like me to write about!**

**Also, I just like to say I love all of you who have stayed with me the ought this rarely updated series. I started this on February break and now it's spring break. Thanks, I love you guys. **

**~Scarlett**


	13. I'm Sorry

I'm really sorry for not updating but I'm really sick. I haven't been to school all week and can barely focus on typing this. The doctors haven't figured out what's wrong with me yet, but as soon as I get better I'll start writing again. For now I'll chip away at the next chapter, probably writing a paragraph per day.

If you're still reading this story, I love you guys. Most of my viewers are gone due to my inconsistent uploads, so you guys are amazing for sticking with me. I'm so grateful.

I love you all.

~Scarlett


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